Meta

The Masterpiece

I’ve been lying down for hours now. It’s 5:35 and there’s not much I can do. You know the worst part about my situation is? I’m in the same room as my parents. They keep looking at me, and I can’t help but look back and try to not cry or scream. Their eyes are focused on me and ther mouths are wide open. There’s the strong scent of blood and I feel so paralysed with fear.

Here’s the thing: the second I make any hint that I’m not asleep anymore, I’m completely fucked. I will die and there’s nobody around to save me. I’ve been trying to thing of a way out but the only idea I have is to rush for the door and run outside the front door and scream for help, hoping any neighbours hear me. It’s risky, but if I stay here, I’ll surely die. He’s waiting for me to wake up and see his masterpiece.

You’re probably wondering what’s going on. I do get ahead of myself sometimes.

About three hours ago, I heard screaming from the other side of my house. I got up and went to check on the noise before realizing I had to use the bathroom. Instead of doing the smart thing and investigating, I used the bathroom first. I could’ve gotten myself killed right then for my stupid actions. But I actually did my busines and took a peek outside the bathroom. There was blood on the carpet. I got very worried and ran back to my room, hiding under the sheets like the pussy I was. I tried to convince myself to go back to sleep, that it was just some really vivid dream or something.

Then I heard my bedroom door open. Like the terrified child I was, I peeked from under my blankets to see what was going on. I could something dragging my dead parent into the room. It was not human, I can tell you that. It was hairless, with no eyes and no clothing. It walked like a caveman, with its back slouched as it dragged my parents, but this thing was muchs smarter than any caveman, it was aware of what it was doing.

It propped my dad up on the edge of my bed, and mande him face me. Then, it sat my mother down in the chair and positioned her towards me as well and started rubbing its hands upon the walls, staining them with blood and then drew a circle with an inverted pentagram in it. This thing had made what it would probably call a masterpiece. To finish it off, it scribbled a message onto the wall that I could not read in the darkness.

It then positioned itself under my bed, waiting to strike.

The scariest thing is now, my eyes have adjusted to the darkness since then and I can read the message on the wall. I don’t want to look at it, because it’s terrifying to think about. But I feel I need to see it before I’m killed.